


With Art

by Michelle



Series: With-Verse [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Background Het, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29063850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle/pseuds/Michelle
Summary: It's the night of Sarah's vernissage and Orlando is hoping to get some alone-time with Viggo.
Relationships: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Series: With-Verse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129283





	With Art

**Author's Note:**

> Title: With Art  
> Author: Michelle  
> Email: michelle [at] waking-vision.com  
> Beta: Nancy  
> Summary: It's the night of Sarah's vernissage and Orlando is hoping to get some alone-time with Viggo.  
> Series: Fifth story in the “With”-Verse. Follows “With Teeth”, “With Roses”, “With Kisses” and “With Gifts”.  
> Pairing: Viggo/Orlando  
> Genre: slash  
> Warnings: AU, vamp!fic  
> Rating: NC17  
> Disclaimer: Do you really have to ask? No, this is not true and vampires exist only in my imagination.  
> Author’s Note: We learn a little more about Viggo, but apart from that – enjoy the fluff!

**_And nothing left on which to fix my glance / that was not a reminder now of death._** (Francisco de Quevedo **)**

** ~*~ **

Today was the big day. Or rather: To _night_ was the big _night_. Not Orlando’s, though, but Sarah’s. After months of preparation, _L’Art Vivant_ was finally showing Sarah’s paintings. Naturally, everybody was excited and curious. Being Sarah’s best friend, Orlando was at least as jittery as she had been during the last days. That was what friends were for after all!

“Sarah was a nervous wreck in the morning,” Mike informed Orlando with a little laugh. He didn’t seem too balanced himself, because his fingers were tapping a staccato on the steering wheel.

“I can imagine,” Orlando chuckled. If he had planned to say anything more, he didn’t get to it. Instead, he gripped the car’s door tightly while Mike took a left turn. Orlando gritted his teeth when a car on the right lane came pretty close. Mike honked and threw a few obscenities at the other driver. Orlando, on the other hand, concentrated on not commenting and on prying his fingers off the door handle. Both were no easy feat.

Sometimes, Orlando was sure Mike had Italian genes, because his driving was atrocious. It wasn’t necessarily that Mike was a bad driver – the fact that he hadn’t totalled his old Fiat (yet) was speaking in his favour. But being with him in a car was certainly an adventure, one that threatened to turn Orlando’s hair grey. If Orlando had to describe Mike’s driving, he would probably use the words _the opposite of sedate_. He accelerated as if the hordes of hell were behind him. He braked as if he needed to save the life of a bunny hopping across the road. And he swore non-stop while doing the accelerating and braking. It was most unnerving, which was the reason why Orlando usually used the tube or walked. But for the special occasion of Sarah’s vernissage, Mike had offered to pick Orlando up, who in turn hadn’t been quick enough to offer a reason why that wasn’t such a grand idea. Interestingly, Sarah’s parents hadn’t tagged along – even though they lived quite near to Mike’s place. Instead, they had told Mike that they had other things to do in town beforehand and would get there by tube. Orlando chided himself for not having thought of that excuse himself.

“When did she leave for the gallery?” Orlando asked when they were stopped by a red light, which gave his heart a chance to calm down somewhat.

“Shortly after noon. She wanted to be there early in case of last-minute-emergencies.”

“I don’t think Liv is the type to allow any last-minute-emergencies to come up. She strikes me as being a perfectionalist.” The same could be said about Viggo, but Orlando supposed that final preparations had fallen to Liv since Viggo was – naturally – allergic to sunlight.

Mike shrugged. Not having met Liv he couldn’t offer his own opinion on the matter. And obviously other things interested him more: “Did that boyfriend of yours tell you what to expect from a vernissage? Because, despite dating an artist, I’ve never been to one.”

“Same here. So I guess we’re both virgins.”

Mike glared at him and the car swerved a bit when his eyes were off the road. Orlando squeaked (quietly, of course) and Mike turned his attention back to traffic. Orlando vowed to never again use sexual metaphors while Mike was behind the wheel.

“I hope there’s booze,” Mike said in a dreamy voice.

“I bet there’s booze, but you’re the designated driver,” Orlando pointed out.

“Dammit. But one glass won’t hurt, I’m sure.”

Orlando would have liked to disagree, but he didn’t want to antagonize Mike. Where drinking was concerned, Orlando supposed they would have to cross that bridge when they came to it.

“There it is!” He pointed at the brightly lit gallery at the corner in front of him and Mike whistled, obviously impressed. He parked the car hapharzardly, one wheel on the sidewalk and one off, and they both walked the last few steps. The official opening would be in about an hour, but Sarah had told them to come whenever they liked and Orlando wanted his evening with Viggo to be as long as possible.

The gallery had changed appearances. New paintings were in the large windows and Orlando instantly recognized that a few were Sarah’s. The title of the new exhibition, _A Woman’s World_ , had been printed in bold letters on the window. Sarah’s art was not the only being shown, though. Viggo had decided to give three young artists a chance – showing paintings and photographs alongside each other. The connecting theme was women and feminity. Orlando knew what to expect of Sarah’s paintings, but he was curious to see what the other two artists would be contributing.

As soon as they were inside, Orlando could see that Sarah’s parents had already arrived. Surprisingly, it had not taken much to convince them to attend. They called Sarah’s art a hobby that took precious time away from her studies, but at the same time they wanted to see their daughter shine. Even if it was _just art_. They were talking to Sarah, but she abandoned them as soon as she saw Orlando and Mike enter. She bounded over to them, almost skipping, gave Orlando a quick hug and Mike an exuberant kiss and started to chatter without taking a single breath: “You took your time, I expected you much earlier. You absolutely have to meet the other two artists, Sylvie and Terence!” She looked around searchingly and then saw her quarry with Liv. She pointed them out for Orlando and Mike. “Mhm, the night is still young. I’m sure we’ll get a chance to talk later. Viggo said, we’ll officially open soon. We’re just waiting for the music and a few more people. What do you think? It’s looks great, doesn’t it?” With that, she invited them to take a look around and glance at the displayed art and the throngs of people milling around.

Mike was more interested in his girlfriend, though, and laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Breathe,” he advised seriously.

She gave him a shaky smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“That you’re nervous? Naahhh, that was just a lucky guess,” Mike said with a twinkle in his eye. Before Sarah could retort anything, her parentscame over.

“Evening,” Orlando greeted cheerfully. They had a soft spot for him. That didn’t mean he necessarily returned the gesture, though, because thy had the tendency to make him feel rather uncomfortable.

“Good evening, Orlando,” Mrs Brown said in a sweet voice. “I see your shirt matches Sarah’s scarf. You two make such a fine pair.”

That was exactly why he felt awkward in their presence. For some reason, they never believed Sarah and Orlando truly only shared a flat – and nothing more. Orlando looked at Mike and shrugged apologetically. He hadn’t even known Sarah owned a bourgoundy scarf. He looked at the item in question and then at his shirt before giving Mrs Brown a polite smile. “I believe you’re right, but I assure you it wasn’t my intention to match Sarah’s colours.”

Mrs Brown waved a hand dismissively. “Oh dear, don’t try to deny it!”

Orlando wanted to reply that his interests lay elsewhere, but she wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise. “And don’t start with that gay-nonsense again. You don’t move in with a women if you’re gay,” she informed him as if she knew all about what one did when one was gay. Orlando bit his lip, the fact that they were sharing a flat was a sore spot. In Orlando’s opinion it was high time that Sarah moved in with Mike, but Sarah proved loyal and didn’t want him to end up with a two-room-flat that was too big – and too expensive – for him. Bless her.

Normally, a comment like Mrs Brown’s would have been his cue to blush, but Orlando had gotten so used to her well-meant ignorance and had built up a resistancy. Of course, that didn’t provide him with a reply, so he looked at Sarah for advice, who just shrugged. In the end, he was saved by Viggo, who appeared from one of the backrooms. Orlando’s face lit up, both because he was glad to see Viggo and because he got a chance to demonstrate some of that gay-nonsense to Mrs Brown. “If you would excuse me, I’d like to say hello to my _boyfriend_.” He emphasized the last to help get his point across. Sarah’s mom was about to say something, but by the time she had taken a breath he was already across the room and in Viggo’s arms. He only faintly heard her _tsk_ in his general direction.

“Give me one of your earth-shattering kisses,” he ordered a perplexed Viggo. Luckily, Viggo recovered quickly and shot Orlando a mischievous grin before bending him backwards like a tango dancer. Orlando could barely swallow his shriek of surprise, when his mouth was covered by Viggo’s, who effectively quietened any unmanly sounds Orlando might have made. Viggo held nothing back and complied with Orlando’s request. The vampire seemed to entirely disregard the fact that they were in public – that people were in fact watching them very closely, Instead, he kissed Orlando like they were alone in his bedroom. Viggo’s singleminded determination soon had Orlando flushed and aroused and he faintly worried that he might embarass himself if Viggo kept up this pace. The vampire only let go when a throat was cleared right next to them. He put Orlando back in a standing position, but kept his arm around him when he noticed that Orlando’s knees were decidedly wobbly. Viggo smirked knowingly, which could only mean that he had been reading Orlando’s thoughts the whole time and knew exactly what effect his kissing was having. Orlando shot Mrs Brown a look to gauge her reaction, but she had turned theatrically to face away from him.

“Hello, lover,” Viggo whispered in Orlando’s ear, his voice throaty and full of promises. Orlando wondered if anyone would miss them if he grabbed Viggo and manhandled him into the backroom from which he had appeared only minutes prior.

Again, a throat was cleared and Orlando looked up.

“Oops, hi Liv,” he said rather sheepishly. Liv gave them a stern look which caused Orlando’s arousal to come to a screeching halt. Ouch.

“That was quite a show,” she scolded and Viggo ducked his head like a schoolboy. Orlando didn’t miss that the smirk was still on Viggo’s face, though.

“He made me do it,” Viggo apologized and pointed an accusing finger at Orlando.

Orlando huffed and poked Viggo in the ribs, but Liv just raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I don’t think anyone can make a vampire do anything. Am I right?” She waited for Viggo to argue, which he wisely didn’t. Orlando, on the other hand, had to agree that she had a point and he was thrilled that he could order the big, bad vampire around. Well, supposedly big and bad.

Liv gave Orlando a tight hug, not minding in the least that Viggo was still hanging on to him. “You look so good together,” she whispered quietly in his ear, apparently even too quiet for a vampire to pick up. She winked at him conspirationally when she let go of him.

“What did she say?” Viggo wanted to know. “Do I need to defend your honour?”

“I think it’s too late for that,” Orlando muttered, which caused Viggo to look scandalized while Liv grinned, obviously highly amused.

It was probably best to let this topic rest. Orlando tried to think of something to steer the conversation away from himself and his attraction to the vampire next to him. Oh yes, the vernissage. He could always ask about that! “Mike and I were wondering what to expect from this evening.”

Viggo nodded, also quite thankful for the change of topic. “Well, don’t expect too much. The place is filling up nicely. I’ve invited a few critics and one hasn’t shown up yet. So I’d like to wait a few more minutes in the hope that he’s simply fashionably late. Then there will be a little speech, a few h’ors d’oevres and then everyone can mingle, look at the art. And hopefully they’ll buy some as well and we’ll get good reviews in tomorrow’s papers.”

“Sarah said something about music?”

Again, Viggo nodded. “I’m not sure whether it’s quite your style, though. I’ve asked a friend of Liv’s. She plays the harp. She’s really good.”

It sounded fitting. If anything, a harper sounded like she could provide good background music for the evening. “I don’t really know what to expect from that, so I’ll delay further judgement,” Orlando concluded.

“A wise decision,” Viggo complimented. “And if you’ll ever get bored during the evening, there are two waitressed doing the rounds with champagne.”

“How should I get bored with you around?” Orlando asked, truly puzzled.

Viggo looked contrite. “Orlando, this is basically a workday for me. Or a worknight, whatever you prefer. There will be a lot of hands to shake and small talk to make. I should introduce our three artists to as many people as possible. So I fear I’ll not have as much time for you as I’d like.”

Damn, somehow Orlando hadn’t considered that this evening would equal visiting Viggo at his workplace. That didn’t sound all that promising. A moment later he checked himself. This evening wasn’t about himself, it wasn’t even about Viggo. It was supposed to be Sarah’s big night.

“Then I’ll just hide behind one of the potted plants and keep an eye on you. Be your personal stalker. Maybe give you a leery smile whenever you look my way!”

Viggo drew a face, half-amused. “I have made it a habit to look your way at every possible opportunity. I’ll not change gear tonight. And I’m sure we’ll get a few minutes to ourselves later when things have quietened down. The night is young yet.”

“Good.” Orlando squeezed Viggo’s arm promisingly before being distracted by the front door opening. A small, but very rotund man entered with a flourish, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. “God, who’s that?” Orlando asked and Viggo chuckled in response. “That, my dear Orlando, would be our missing critic.”

Artists, it seemed, where a close-knit group, because the critic in question promptly went to shake hands with the majority of the visitors – Viggo included, of course. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, so Orlando hoped the evening would turn into a familial affair. If things went that way, Orlando was sure a chance might present itself when he could whisk Viggo away. A few minutes alone-time with Viggo wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?

Once the critic had made his rounds and the place had quietened down again, Viggo went in search of Liv to open the vernissage officially. They both positioned themselves effectively below one of the large photographs and while Viggo clinked his (rather useless) glass of champagne to make his small speech, Liv doubled the effect by elegantly hanging on his arm and smiling in every direction.

Orlando tried his best to follow what Viggo was saying, but all the talk about nurturing young artists, exposure times, pastels and naive art made it rather clear that Orlando was out of his depth. Viggo could have been talking about astrophysics and Orlando would have understood just as little – or just as much. Viggo went on to introduce Sarah, Sylvie and Terence and added a personal touch by illustrating why he had decided to show their art. Orlando looked at Sarah and saw her beam proudly when Viggo talked about her paintings. Her parents, though, seemed a little surprised by the attention their daughter was suddently getting and Orlando desperately hoped they would finally understand her art was something Sarah should pursue. And law school be damned!

Viggo ended with wishing everyone a pleasant evening and promising that the artists would answer any questions the guests might have. On cue, the promised waitresses appeared bearing tablets with drinks and food and that was the sign for everyone to walk around, look at the art and talk to old acquaintances.

Mike sauntered over to Orlando and snatched a canapee from one of the tablets on his way over. “I’ve made my excuses to my lovely girlfriend. She’s talking a mile a minute to some old guy about where to buy the best oils in London and I don’t have anything to contribute to the conversation. Furthermore, I fear things will only get worse as the night wears one. So: Entertain me!”

Orlando chuckled, not taking Mike’s grousing seriously since he could very well see how proud he was to be the boyfriend of an aspiring artist. He was probably already imagining quitting his job and living off the fruits of her labour.

“Why should I entertain you?” Orlando asked, nonplussed.

“Because, as you pointed out, I can’t get plastered. That means, you’re responsible for my evening entertainment.”

“I fail to see the connection,” Orlando replied. “But I agree that we should stick together. Maybe we should look at the art? That’s why we’re here after all.”

And that was what they did. Both had no deeper understanding of the medium, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy what was being displayed. Mike, knowing Sarah’s paintings by heart, concentrated on Terence’s photography, which he found “really cool”. Orlando, in contrast, enjoyed the mix of three very different styles.

From time to time, Viggo would come over and relinquish his glass of champagne to Orlando before getting a new one. The first time, Orlando had given him a quizzical look, but Viggo had explained with a wink that he would use every opportunity to grope a feel. And apparently he was simply required to hold a glass of champagne – whether he was a vampire or not. Between those little visits, Orlando saw Viggo introduce Sarah to a lot of people. In fact, he was quite sure he had never seen Viggo talk that much. He seemed to enjoy himself, though, because his eyes sparkled with excitement whenever he caught Orlando’s gaze. Orlando nodded to himself. It was just as he had expected: This gallery was a passion, not a job. It fitted Viggo and made him obviously happy.

And Liv was just the same, obviously she had inherited the love for art from Viggo. She looked gorgeous again, wearing a knee-length black chiffon dress and hazardously high stilettos. That her lipstick also matched her nails was just the icing on the cake. At only a cursory glance, one might assume that her appearance was what mattered most to her. But everyone watching her for a few minutes would have to agree that this was a misconception. She held herself with a natural elegance that suggested she was rather clueless about the fact that half the gallery was staring at her. Yes, she did look breathtaking. But in Orlando’s opinion, it was the fact that she talked and laughed in such an animated fashion that truly made her attractive. Orlando found that extremely endearing and likeable.

Just when he hoped that they would get a chance to talk, she moved in his direction as if she had read his thoughts. She looked flushed and absolutely happy when she took his arm for balance. “I think I’m just a little bit tipsy,” Liv informed him good-naturedly.

“That’s quite okay,” Orlando replied. “I can relate.” He swished the contents of his glass around and realized that he didn’t even remember how many of those champagne glasses Viggo had pushed into his hands during the evening. “You look like you’re a happy drunk, so we’re good.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?” she wanted to know.

“As much as is possible with me being here and Viggo being at the other side of the room,” Orlando explained, but his smile showed that was being only partially serious.

“Poor Orlando,” Liv soothed. “I’m sure things will wind down at some point, so you can properly cuddle. I know you two – you just can’t keep your hands off each other.”

For the sake of his mental health, Orlando decided not to ask how Liv had come by that knowledge. He’d rather not imagine Viggo voluntarily sharing anything regarding their sex life with her. It was best to distract Liv from pursuing this topic further. “How is Sarah doing?”

“Oh, wonderful!” Liv assured him. “She’s a natural at this and everyone loves her. Her parents are a bit shell-shocked, though.” She pointed them out for Orlando. They were sitting on a sofa in a quiet corner of the room, talking to a middle-aged man wearing faded jeans and a grey sweater. “The man they’re talking to works for _The Guardian_. And he’s totally charmed by Sarah’s paintings, by the way. I don’t think they expected the national media to show up.”

Orlando chuckled happily. “I hope that will change their opinion. They always wanted to keep Sarah from pursuing it.”

“I know, she told me.” Liv nodded. “Which is why I’ve pointed out some of the price tags to her parents, to then promptly inform them that she’s already sold two.” Liv winked at Orlando in a conspirational manner and he got the impression that she rather enjoyed herself.

“You’re a bit evil, you know?” Orlando chuckled.

“Only a bit?” Liv clutched her hands to her chest miming shock. “I’m living with a vampire, we do evil for breakfast.”

“I highly doubt that,” Orlando replied. “On the contrary, I think you sit around your breakfast table talking about daisies, daffodils and world peace. Supposing Viggo even has breakfast.”

Liv laughed outright. However, by chance her gaze went out the window, obviously seeing something she didn’t particularly like, and she became serious in an instant. The change was so sudden that it alarmed Orlando. “It’s not all flowers and sunshine, though,” she said with a bitter edge to her voice.

Orlando, wanting to know what had caused Liv’s sudden shift in mood, followed her gaze. From time to time, people had left the gallery, to take a smoke on the sidewalk. So Orlando wasn’t surprised to see two figures standing outside, talking animatedly. But when he looked closer, he noticed that one was Viggo (who definitely did not smoke) and the other was... Orlando frowned. Where had he seen that guy before?

Orlando narrowed his eyes when realization finally hit. “Isn’t that the guy making a scene in here when Sarah and I were here the first time? What was his name? Steven? Seymour?”

“Simon,” Liv put in helpfully. She spoke the name with venom in her voice.

Orlando looked at her sharply. He had not expected her to sound so hateful. This Simon must be really bad news if he caused this reaction in the well-mannered Liv. “You don’t like him.” Orlando stated the obvious, hoping to get her talking.

“No. And I don’t like seeing him talk to Viggo.” The moment she said that, Simon put a hand on Viggo’s arm. It didn’t look intimate, not even overly friendly. It looked like someone was staking a claim and Orlando instantly disliked that. He also disliked that Viggo did nothing to get rid of the touch. He didn’t like what he was seeing. Not one bit.

“Maybe I should go outside,” he suggested. _And stake my own claim,_ he added silently.

Liv shook her head decisively. “That’s not a good idea. You better not get between them.”

Now Orlando was truly worried. “Liv, what is going on?”

She bit her lip in thought, trying to decide what to tell him. In the end, she shook her head. “That’s not my story to tell.” Orlando rememberd her saying much the same when they had first met. “You will have to ask him yourself.”

Orlando rolled his eyes. Asking Viggo would be as pleasant as a root canal therapy. “He’s not really forthcoming where personal stuff is concerned.”

“That’s because he’s been alive for quite some time and therefore has a lot of that personal stuff,” Liv pointed out gently. “Keep asking. He’s not shutting you out on purpose. He just doesn’t want to scare you off.”

“Scare me off? Why should I be scared? And how do you know?”

“Because he told me, silly.”

Orlando did a double take. So Viggo could talk to people about himself. Though, maybe Liv was a special case, because she had known Viggo for so long. But that suggested that Orlando’s chance would come as well if he just stuck around long enough. If pushed, he could be patient. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t like things to proceed faster if at all possible.

“So he tells you things.” Orlando tried not to pout. “Did he tell you over breakfast?”

That broke the tension and Liv smiled. “Something like it, yeah.”

There was nothing more to say, so they stood in silence, both watching what was going on outside. Whatever Viggo and Simon were talking about, it didn’t seem to be pleasant. Simon talked with his whole body, waving his arms around and constantly invading Viggo’s personal space while Viggo stood stock-still and only put in a word from time to time. At some point, it appeared that Simon was shouting, but he stopped abruptly when Viggo said something – calm and collected. Whatever the vampire had said, it obviously took all the steam out of Simon’s argument. They stared at one another for another moment and then Simon stalked off. Viggo remained on the sidewalk, looking dejected and lonely. Orlando swallowed hard, he didn’t like seeing Viggo like this. Looking lost didn’t become him.

“Maybe now you could go and talk to him,” Liv offered quietly, not taking her eyes off the window. She hadn’t even finished the sentence when Orlando was already halfway through the gallery. A moment later, he was through the door and outside. It was only March, and while the days could already be quite warm, the night air was freezing cold. He shivered and pushed his hands deep into his pockets.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

Viggo looked at him with eyes that were void of any emotion. It wasn’t just that his gaze was stripped of humanity – Orlando had seen that before and it didn’t look anything like this. There was simply nothing he could read in Viggo’s gaze, neither anger nor fear nor disappointment. There was just nothing in his eyes, as if Viggo was simply a shell and his eyes were not the windows to his soul, but the windows to ... nowhere. Orlando shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. He gathered up all remaining courage and approached the silent vampire.

“Hey,” Viggo echoed Orlando’s greeting and at least something like recognition flickered in his eyes. If this were _Frankenstein_ , now would be the moment for the doctor to loudly declare: “It’s alive!” As it were, Orlando was just glad to see that Viggo hadn’t lost himself totally wherever he went when he wasn’t quite in the here and now.

Orlando waited and counted very slowly to ten in the hope that Viggo would start talking on his own, but of course Viggo simply stood there and stared blankly into the night. If Orlando didn’t get the ball rolling, they would still be standing there in silence when the sun came up. He supposed that wouldn’t be overly healthy for a vampire.

To keep Viggo from spontaneously combusting at dawn, Orlando decided he should say something. He figured there was no reason to let Viggo know he had talked to Liv. Instead, he played dumb: “Who were you talking to?”

“No one.”

 _Monosyllabic, thy name be Mortensen,_ Orlando bemoaned silently. “But I saw you a moment ago, you were talking to a man.” He paused, giving Viggo another chance to speak. Nothing happened. “Talk, blond. Rather good-looking actually.”

That earned him a sharp look. Orlando held Viggo’s gaze, which prompted the vampire to throw him a bone. “That was Simon.”

Orlando continued to stare at Viggo. He raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. “He’s an artist. I showed some of his photography a while back.”

Aha. It was a start at least. “And?” Orlando’s question was followed by another pause and more silence from Viggo. “It didn’t look like you were talking about the latest exhibition in the _National Gallery_.” One corner of Viggo’s mouth lifted for a second, but the smile was gone so quickly that Orlando was tempted to attribute it to a trick of the light.

“We weren’t,” Viggo confirmed the obvious.

“Then what were you talking about?”

Again, there was a pause while Viggo shot him look. “You are cold, we should go back inside.”

Orlando would have none of that. “If that is an attempt to distract me from the topic at hand, then I’m disappointed. You should know me well enough by now to realize that it won’t work. I won’t go back inside until you talk to me. You two were arguing about something and I want to know what it was.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” Orlando just shrugged, a gesture that clearly said, _did you expect anything else?_ Viggo looked, his gaze full of love. That alone told Orlando that he had been right to prod. It told him that Viggo wanted to talk to him, but apparently didn’t really know how.

“Where you are concerned? Never. And now, start talking,” Orlando ordered. “Preferably while you hold me close so that I don’t freeze to death.”

“We can still go back inside,” Viggo offered, but Orlando shook his head, molding himself against Viggo’s body until they were standing next to each other, Viggo’s arms hugging him close. A vampire didn’t give off too much body heat – Orlando had learned that early on – but the close proximity was warming him up just as much as the coat Viggo was wearing. “Nah, I wasn’t joking. I’ll hear this story before we go back inside.”

Viggo sighed. “You’re so very stubborn.” He kissed the crown of Orlando’s head to sweeten the words. “Do you remember when I told you that you were special?”

Orlando snickered, despite the situation. “You always tell me I’m special. Any particular _special_ you are refering to?”

“Yes, actually. The _special_ were I told you that you see me and not the vampire.”

Orlando remembered the conversation, but he still didn’t quite believe it. Especially after seeing Viggo in his element tonight. “From what I’ve seen tonight, you are accepted and liked. You’ve been shaking hands with more people than I could count.”

There was a bitter edge to Viggo’s voice when he replied, “That’s because they don’t know. Well, most of them, anyway.”

Orlando looked at him aghast. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. It’s not like I go and flaunt around that little detail. It’s none of their business and it’s of no consequence to my or their job. Working only nights doesn’t even count as eccentric in artistic circles, so it’s not such a hard secret to keep. And the alternative would make me vulnerable, I’d rather avoid that.”

“But I know what you are,” Orlando put in. Viggo might have sounded a little nervous about the vampire-part when they had talked on the phone for the first time, but Orlando had had no idea that it was such a big issue for him.

“Because of the way we met. It was kind of a given.”

Well, Viggo had a point there. “That means, if we had met elsewhere you wouldn’t have told me?” It sounded preposterious, but the more Orlando thought about it, the more he had to admit that it would also be quite weird to imagine Viggo coming up to him and introducing himself with “Hi, I’m Viggo and I’m a vampire”.

“Not right away, no. I just want you to understand that I don’t trust everyone with that knowledge and that it’s never the first thing I share about myself. It’s actually easier to deal with people when they don’t know what I am.”

“Okay.” Orlando nodded, filing this information away. “What does that have to do with Simon?”

“Everything.” Viggo took a deep breath before he continued. “I saw his photography first in a small café in the Docklands. I was fascinated right away. That is to say, I realized at once that he had talent. I got his number, contacted him and offered him a bigger venue for showing his photos. It wasn’t personal in the beginning.”

“But later on, it was?” Orlando was jealous again, but he couldn’t very well begrudge Viggo a past love. It was just... generally it was considered wiser to not meet the ex.

“Yeah. I ... liked him.”

“Loved him?” Orlando’s heart skipped a beat, but he had to know.

“Maybe. I was lonely.” Viggo shrugged apologetically. “Simon made me feel alive, like I was still part of this world and not just going on every night for the sake of simply going on. You have no idea how tedious immortality can become. I was looking forward to seeing him, talking to him and even that was more than I had felt in a long while. He was an incorrigible flirt and I suppose I took that for more than it was.

“I told him eventually. That I’m a vampire, I mean. And that’s when things really started. He promised me forever and I started to believe that maybe I had found someone worth of forever.”

“What happened?”

“Simon meant forever literally. He wanted me to turn him. He wanted to become a vampire. Over time, he became obsessed with the idea. Whatever I said or did to change his mind, he wouldn’t let go of it.”

“And you didn’t want to turn him,” Orlando stated. Taking into consideration how Viggo had become a vampire, it didn’t take a genius to come to the conclusion that Viggo would be opposed to such an idea.

Viggo shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t go so far and say that this existence is a curse. But it’s coming quite close from time to time. It gets lonely, very lonely. I wouldn’t want that for someone who didn’t even bother to understand all the implications. Simon worked from the naive assumption that all his problems would vanish once death didn’t lurk at the end of his life. That’s far from what happens when you become a vampire.

“We couldn’t get past this, so I broke things up. But he can’t let it go. He still wants me to turn him.”

“That’s what you were arguing about?”

“Yes, he was calling me a selfish bastard for not letting him have this.”

“Pushy,” Orlando said. More seriously, he added. “That must have been a nasty breakup, especially with him sticking around like this.”

“I have all the time in the world to get past this.” That might actually be true, but Orlando supposed there were better ways to spend eternity. He could see now why Viggo had been equal parts reluctant and hopeful when they had first met. Orlando had always gotten the impression that Viggo desperately wanted to love him and be loved in return, but that he didn’t quite believe his luck. His experience with Simon seemed like a good enough explanation for his caution. At each and every turn he had probably expected Orlando to do something selfish, to ask for what Simon had asked. Maybe Viggo still feared that. Orlando was just glad that the vampire had given him a chance despite his obvious misgivings.

“Simon’s an asshole. He should have accepted your no.”

“You would have?” Viggo asked carefully and Orlando knew that a lot depended on his answer. So far, he hadn’t even thought about that particular question: Did he want to be a vampire? Was that a tempting idea? Well, whatever his ultimate answer to those questions would be, he could truthfully say that they had not been the driving force behind his interest in Viggo.

“You wouldn’t ask more of me than I’m able to give. I will do the same in return. I hope I’ve never given you the impression that I’m pushing you past what you’re prepared to give.”

“That’s what I love about you,” Viggo reiterated. “You prod, but you know when to stop.”

Orlando took the hint, but he had one last question: “Is he coming around often?”

“No. Every month or so, but it’s becoming less and less. Hopefully it’ll stop entirely at one point, but I guess the vernissage was too tempting to pass up.”

“Well, let’s hope he’ll lose interest at some point.” _Sooner, rather than later,_ Orlando added silently. “And now take me back inside, I feel like an ice cube.”

Once they were back inside, Orlando noticed with surprise that things were in the process of winding down. Quite a few people had left already and Mike was standing together with Sarah, Sylvie and Terence, laughing at a joke one of them must have made. A look at his watch confirmed that it was truly getting late. Apparently, he had been so engrossed in his talk with Viggo that he had missed seeing people leave. As Viggo pointed out to him, critics usually left early – either because they had to attend other events or because they still had to write – and quite a few of the regular visitors had left as well. Most of the family and friends of the three artists were still there, though. They were lounging on the comfortable sofas or standing around in little groups, drinking, talking and laughing. It seemed everyone was having a good time.

“The night was a success”, Viggo said. “All three sold something, people are having fun and I got a good vibe about the critics. I’m sure they’ll write something nice.”

Orlando looked at Viggo speculatively and narrowed his eyes. “Vibe? You mean to say you read their thoughts?”

Viggo assumed a pokerface and shrugged. “Maybe.” Then he smiled. “But only a little.”

Orlando shook his head and laughed, but his mirth was interrupted when a shiver went through his body and he started to rub his arms to warm up.

“Still feeling cold?” Viggo asked and Orlando nodded. “I think I can make myself scarce, everyone still here knows his way around anyway. And Liv is more than able to hold the Fort. Want me to make you a cup of tea to warm up?”

Orlando looked incredulously at Viggo. “Are you crazy? It’s almost midnight! I might be English, but even I have my limits.”

“Coffee?”

“That’s even worse”, Orlando chuckled. He had a much better idea. “Actually, I was hoping _you_ would help me warm up. You know: bodily.” He wiggled his eyebrows, hoping Viggo would catch his meaning.

The vampire’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Of course, an excellent idea! I think you didn’t have a chance to see the backrooms yet. Let me give you the grand tour.” And with that he led Orlando to a door and motioned for Orlando to preceed him. Behind the door was a narrow hallway with – surprise – more doors.

“Oh, so this is _Behind the Scenes of_ _L’Art Vivant_! Great, what’s behind that door?” Orlando pushed open the first he could reach, only to be disappointed.

“That would be the bathroom,” Viggo said dryly and Orlando let the door close again.

“Maybe you should take the lead,” Orlando proposed. “I suppose there are more interesting things to see back here than the loo.”

“You decide. Over there is Liv’s office.” Viggo led the way and Orlando followed obediently. He was surprised to find that Liv’s immaculate taste in clothes didn’t mean that her space looked the same. The place was an utter mess. There was paper everywhere on the desk, portfolios and notes and a huge collection of pens. A potted plant was withering away on the windowsill and there was a board on one wall where she had pinned artwork, yet more notes and inspirational quotes.

“Wow, It’s not at all what I had expected,” Orlando admitted. “How does she find anything in here?”

Viggo chuckled. “I’ve asked her. She says, she knows where everything is and I’m absolutely not allowed to even move a piece of paper. It will destroy her system.”

“There’s a system?”

“So she says. So far, I couldn’t find it.”

“Do you have an office, too?” Orlando was about to give up ever hoping to see Viggo’s flat. But maybe his office was the next best thing.

“Yes, more or less. Let me show you.” Viggo led Orlando to the next door and opened it to reveal a spotless office with neither potted plants on the windowsill nor pinned notes on the wall. Instead, there was artwork on the walls and a sculpture on the desk. It looked like an interior designer had arranged this room. The only thing that didn’t quite fit was an easel standing in one corner. For some reason, though, the canvas on it faced the window – and therefore away from anyone entering the room. Odd.

“This is were we bring visitors, clients and buyers. Because it’s showy. I actually rarely work in here and the day to day stuff is handled by Liv in her office of chaos.”

The room was pretty, but nondescript. It could belong to anyone, there was no special touch of Viggo there. Liv’s office looked lived in, but if he had expected to win new insights into Viggo’s character by seeing his office, he was disappointed. Half-heartedly, he took a stroll through the little space and stopped in front of the easel. The canvas was covered with dark cloth. Maybe a half-finished painting by a shy artist? With a quick motion, Orlando drew back the cloth and stepped back to take a better look.

He couldn’t keep a gasp from escaping his mouth. This was ... unexpected. And maybe a little frightening. Viggo came to stand next to Orlando and attempted to cover the painting again, but Orlando would have none of it. He slapped Viggo’s hand away and then grabbed it to hold on for dear life. In the end, they were both standing there silently, looking at the painting.

He had been wrong to assume that there was nothing interesting to be found in Viggo’s office. On the contrary. Yes, Viggo had told him about his past, but it didn’t quite compare to seeing this past on a canvas. For the painting was a portrait. It showed Viggo, a little younger and with longer hair, in clothes Orlando had only seen in historical movies. He was standing behind a chair on which a woman was sitting, a baby in her arms. Orlando stared at the scene. First, he could not stop looking at the image of Viggo, looking a little younger and certainly more carefree. But then he was captivated by the young woman. Something about her eyes and the curve of her mouth looked very familiar. “She looks a bit like Liv,” Orlando finally said. There were differences, because her hair was auburn and her eyes seemed to be green. But some lines of her body and face definitely reminded him of Liv.

“Yeah, she does,” Viggo admitted a little reluctantly. “But it isn’t Liv, it’s Marianne.”

Orlando spared a moment for the fact that Viggo had provided that bit of crucial information without Orlando having to ask for it. That didn’t help much with his shock. “So, the baby is Cecille then? Your daughter?”

Viggo looked at the painting with fondness and longing in his eyes. His gaze tugged fiercely at Orlando’s heart, because he didn’t like seeing Viggo hurt like this. Orlando wished Viggo could remember his past without regret and bitterness. Orlando wanted that for him, desperately, but he didn’t believe he could do anything to make it easier for Viggo.

“Yes, Cecille. I started painting that shortly after her first birthday.”

Orlando didn’t know much about art, but to him it was evident that the portrait had been painted with much love. Both Marianne and the baby looked directly at the viewer. The baby was depicted in such a realistic fashion that Orlando thought he could feel her warm cheeks if he touched the canvas. Marianne, holding her daughter in her arms, wore a simple light-blue dress and her long hair fell over her shoulder in a thick braid. Her eyes were full of warmth and compassion. Viggo, on the other hand, was standing behind Marianne’s chair. His head was lowered and he was gazing at his wife and daughter instead of looking at the viewer. It showed where the emphasis truly lay: Obviously, it had been a family portrait, but Viggo had wanted Marianne and Cecille to be the main focus of the painting.

He wondered why the painting had been hidden, and in this unoccupied office nonetheless. Viggo had kept it through all these years, undoubtedly it meant much to him.

Viggo answered even though Orlando hadn’t asked the question out loud. “Because I can’t look at it all the time. Sometimes, it’s enough comfort to know that it’s there. Sometimes, I need to study it to remember their faces. I can never quite picture Marianne’s eyes in my mind. I know they were green and had brown flecks around the iris. The nearer you were, the darker they became. Sometimes, I’m not quite sure anymore about the right tone of green or brown. Then I look at the painting. And then I try to decide whether I got the coulour right back then.” He sighed.

There was one question Orlando was dying to ask: “And how does Liv fit into all of this? It can’t be a coincidence that she looks like your wife. Did you adopt her because of that likeness?”

Viggo seemed to think, but Orlando was sure the vampire wasn’t thinking about the answer. He was trying to decide whether to tell Orlando.

“Is it a secret? I can keep those,” Orlando promised.

“No one knows that.” Then Viggo checked himself and reiterared, “At least no one mortal.”

“Then you should definitely tell me. If you don’t, I’ll die of curiosity and it’ll be your fault. This similarity between them just can’t be a coincidence.”

Viggo took a deep breath, stealing himself. “It’s not. Liv is family. Real family. As in, Liv and I are related by blood.”

Orlando hadn’t expected _that_. He tried to make sense of what Viggo was telling him and utterly failed. “But you’re... and she’s... how can you be related?” Only then did he remember what Viggo had told him about his mortal family. “You’ve really been keeping track, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I’ve made notes about all of Cecille’s children. And about their children. And their children’s children. Even today I’m doing that. Her descendants are living all over the world now. It gives me comfort to see that my disappearance didn’t stop her from living her life, finding love and having children of her own. It puts things in perspective.”

“So you didn’t take in Liv because you were friends with her parents, but because who she was?”

Viggo just nodded. “I didn’t know her parents, personally, I mean. But I knew that Liv didn’t have any immediate family left. She would have ended up in an orphanage or in foster care. It was a spur of the moment thing that I decided to inferfere.”

“It must have been hard to get custody. I mean, on the outside, nothing connects you two.”

Viggo shrugged. “When you’re a vampire, you have enough to time to accumulate money and connections to the right people. Both are essential for our survival. They buy privacy, forged idendities and sometimes even the custody of little orphaned girls.”

Orlando grinned. He felt like he had suddenly landed in an adventure movie. This was all so exciting! “That’s amazing! But why is it a secret? I mean, all the things you know about those people – about their past, the history of their families. I bet they would be fascinated by what you could tell them! Imagine the family reunions you could have!” Then, a little belatedly, another thought occured to him and that one wasn’t quite so pleasant: “And why doesn’t Liv know?”

“I’m not part of their world, Orlando, and I don’t want to be. It’s bad enough to note a death in one of my numerous notebooks. It would be even worse if I had actually known these people. I’m over two hundreds years old. Can you imagine the number of people that would have died during that time? I can’t say goodbye all the time. It’s better to stay away.”

That made sense in a twisted way. Viggo was just trying to protect himself, Orlando could understand that. Still, it was a sad thought that Viggo had all this information at his fingertips and decided to do nothing with it. At least Liv had a right to know. “But what about Liv?You already are a part of Liv’s life. You can only win by telling her and frankly, I think she has a right to know.”

“It never came up,” Viggo said with finality, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“It never came up?” Orlando was incredulous. “How could this never have come up? You’re just trying to take the easy way out. I don’t know what you’re afraid of, you’d both be happier if you told her.” Orlando was raising his voice, trying to make Viggo understand.

“This is not your decision to make,” Viggo said sharply, effectively ending the argument.

There was now one other person that could tell Liv the truth, but the moment Orlando mentioned it he knew that it was a low blow. “I could tell her.”

“No, you will not.” There was a hard edge to Viggo’s voice and Orlando was suddenly keenly aware of the fact that he was arguing with a vampire. A vampire who could snap his neck without even breaking a sweat. He could drain him dry or maybe he could even make Orlando forget that they just had this conversation. Viggo could force Orlando to do whatever he wanted – physically or psychologically – and Orlando wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Instinctively, he took a step back, even though putting a few additional feet between them wouldn’t save his life.

“Are you threatening me?” He asked quietly. Orlando cursed himself: He had known this could be a dangerous game. But he hadn’t expected that he couldn’t even have an argument with Viggo without the power balance between them shifting so violently. And while being at Viggo’s mercy in bed was a high he wanted to experience again and again, this version of being the weaker part didn’t entice him at all.

Viggo visibly checked himself, obviously surprised by the effect he had on Orlando. Mirroring his younger lover, he also took a step back and they ended up standing in two corners of the room like two boxers waiting for the gong. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wouldn’t threaten you, ever. You must believe me! I was only appealing to your sense of honour. It was you who said that you can keep a secret. I’m asking you to keep that one.”

Orlando took a deep breath, taking Viggo’s words for the peace offering they were. “I still think you’re wrong,” Orlando began. “I still think Liv has a right to know and it would take this weight off your chest. But I promised I can keep a secret and I make it a habit to keep my promises. It’s your decision.”

“Thank you.” They were both quiet for a moment, until Viggo took up the thread of their conversation again. “Can I come over? Please?”

Questions like these were the reason why Orlando usually felt so safe in Viggo’s presence. Maybe he was a very attentive vampire, or maybe he was a very attentive lover. Either way, Viggo always made sure he didn’t frighten or overwhelm Orlando. It was a wonderful feeling to be pampered to such an extent, which in turn helped Orlando to let his guard down. He wanted to trust Viggo, but could he really? He had never seen the vampire pushed to the extreme, so he didn’t know what Viggo was actually capable of. And in truth, Orlando didn’t really want to know. However, maybe there would come a point when that knowledge would stare Orlando in the face whether he wanted it or not.

His only consolation was that tonight was obviously not that night, so he nodded in Viggo’s direction which caused the vampire to stand right in front him only a second later. He was trying to read the emotion on Orlando’s face, trying to see traces of fear. In the end, Viggo encircled Orlando in his arms and the younger man returned the gesture, burying his face in Viggo’s shoulder. This was much nicer than fighting.

“I need to know that I can trust you,” Orlando mumbled into Viggo’s shirt while the vampire’s hands were lightly running up and down his back. “I thought I did. Trust you, I mean. But just a moment ago, I wasn’t so sure anymore.” Suddenly, Orlando realized that it would probably hurt Viggo’s feelings to know that Orlando doubted him. “I’m sorry I didn’t have more faith in you.”

“It’s okay,” Viggo soothed. “It’s just human instinct. It’s your body recognizing mine as a the bigger predator.”

Orlando looked up, a deep frown on his face. Viggo was being way too forgiving about this whole thing. “But I don’t want my body to recognize you as a predator. We’re lovers. That’s not the desired reaction when you’re with your lover.”

“Then I’ll just have to work harder on convincing your body that I’m friend, and not foe.”

All of a sudden, Orlando liked were this was going. He hadn’t forgotten their argument, but he didn’t suppose it would be the last disagreement they ever had. That would just be unrealistic. And the positive thing was: After a fight, you usually had make-up sex. He lowered his lashes and wet his lips invitingly. “And how do you suppose you could convince my body?”

It seemed Orlando’s nonverbal invitation had an immediate effect on Viggo, because instead of answering he opted for a demonstration. With a possessive growl, he covered Orlando’s mouth with his own and devoured him like a man starved for water. Orlando was kissed until he was breathless and felt weak in the knees. Apparently, it didn’t take more than one of Viggo’s kisses to convince Orlando’s body that things were good between them.

“I have a few things in mind,” Viggo offered in a throaty voice. “Let’s finish this tour with the studio. It has a comfortable couch.”

Orlando wouldn’t have objected if Viggo had decided to take him there and then, on the rather huge and sturdy desk for instance. But he wasn’t one to decline the little luxuries in life – like having sex on a soft surface instead of a hard one. “What are we waiting for?! Lead on!”

The studio turned out to be the largest of the backrooms. It looked a little messy, because it seemed to serve multiple purposes, but especially after the almost aseptic office it at least looked lived in. Apparently someone – maybe Viggo? – spent quite a bit of time in here. There truly was a comfortable couch situated in one corner, with a small table and an old stereo on the ground. What looked like the complete equipment of a professional photo studio took up most of the room, but there were also shelves with brushes and other painting supplies. Next to the shelves were more canvases. This time though, Orlando didn’t go over to look what was on them. One heated argument was enough for the night. He did notice though, that there was also an easel with a blank canvas standing in the middle of the room. Orlando raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m currently waiting for inspiration,” Viggo told him in answer to his silent question.

“Mmh.” Orlando gave a mischievous smile. “Maybe I can help?” He stroke a few poses, all of them hopelessly exaggerated, and ended with an impersonation of Rodin’s _The Age of Bronze_.

Viggo smirked when he recognized the pose. “You do realize though, that you’d have to be naked for that one?”

“Oh, of course! How could I forget?!” Slowly, very slowly, Orlando was opening the top button of his shirt while sauntering over to where Viggo was lounging on the couch. With each step, another button was opened until Orlando stood in front of Viggo, his open shirt revealing an expanse of naked skin underneath. Viggo looked up at him with pure and untainted lust in his eyes. An admiring gaze like that was sure to go right to Orlando’s head. And to his cock, of course. It made him feel giddy with passion for that very special man. That he had such an instantaneous effect on Viggo set his own desire aflame as much as his still ongoing surprise that someone like Viggo could want him... There were moments when Orlando couldn’t quite comprehend that, but now probably was not the time to think about that. Instead, he licked his lips in anticipation of the kiss that would surely take place shortly. Viggo made a sound that was somewhere between a growl and an actual word and his right hand came up to cup Orlando’s crotch promisingly. Then he stood in one elegant motion and the hand wandered upwards while Viggo’s lips sought Orlando’s. The kiss was searing hot and Viggo intensified the feeling by dipping a finger into Orlando’s belly button before it travelled up to pinch a nipple. Orlando moaned into the kiss and drew nearer to Viggo to let him feel his hardening cock. Viggo captured Orlando’s tongue between his teeth and bit down gently before letting go abruptly.

He turned them around and then gently pushed Orlando down onto the couch. “Lose those clothes. Sooner rather than later!” The command was spoken in a voice the brokered no argument, but naturally Orlando was more than willing to comply. He started to fumble with his shirt and trousers while Viggo lighted the thick candles that were standing on the table. When he was done he went over to the door and switched off the glaring overhead light.

When Viggo turned back around, Orlando had just divested himself of his second sock and was lying back on the couch completely naked – apart from the necklace, of course. The soft candlelight complemented his tanned skin and Viggo drew in an audible breath. “I think I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life,” Viggo commented reverently.

“And it’s all yours,” Orlando assured him in a sultry voice. “I’m all yours.”

“I’m not sure I deserve you, but I’ll try to make it worth your while.”

Orlando had to smile. “You’re always worth my while. There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now.”

Viggo sat on the edge of the couch and looked at Orlando like he wanted to commit this moment to memory. For a second only, he touched the sigil around Orlando’s neck, but otherwise kept his hands to himself, a fact Orlando was starting to bemoan. Being under Viggo’s scrutiny was arousing in and of itself, but it didn’t compare to actually feeling Viggo’s touch. And he wanted that, desperately. Instead, Viggo turned his head and looked at the easel. It seemed to silently beckon him, because when he looked at Orlando again, the younger man understood at once.

“Oh no!” Orlando lamented. “Don’t you dare be inspired now! I’ve been waiting for this since I got up this morning and I want to feel you. Now! It’s not nice to start things only to then come to a screeching halt.”

Viggo bit his lip in thought. “Just a moment? A quick sketch? It won’t take long, I promise. But if you could only see yourself – laid out like this, a wanton display, half-aroused and waiting to be loved. I need to put this on paper or the sight won’t leave me alone.”

 _Take a picture,_ Orlando wanted to say, but he checked himself in the last possible moment. He wasn’t the artist here, Viggo was. If it was a sketch-moment and not a picture-moment – who was he to judge that? He had never modelled – and would certainly never have thought of doing it nude, but maybe this had potential. Maybe he could play a little game with Viggo and see how long the vampire could actually concentrate on his sketch while Orlando undressed him with his smoldering eyes. Then they’d see what was actually stronger: art or sex. The question might be unfair, but it was getting late and Orlando was desperate to actually get some. He hadn’t lied to Viggo: Ever since he had gotten up in the morning, he had imagined their lovemaking.

Unfortunately, Viggo was not easily distracted. He fetched a sketchbook and some charcoal and then started to sketch with inhuman speed. He lifted Orlando’s arm to let it rest on the back of the couch while the other rested on his belly. Apart from that, he only spared Orlando’s naked body a glance every few minutes before concentrating on his sketch again. Silcene stretched between them and Orlando was starting to feel a tiny bit neglected despite being the centre of attention.

“I feel a bit like Kate Winslet in _Titanic_ ,” Orlando commented when the silence in the room got too heavy for his taste. Viggo looked up and frowned, his concentration obviously shaken. “The scene were Leo draws her naked?” Viggo’s frown deepened and Orlando let out a sigh. “You don’t watch too many romances, do you?”

Viggo didn’t grace that with an answer and looked down again. All Orlando could see was Viggo’s hand and it was practically flying over the paper. He heard the scratch of charcoal when Viggo drew a line and then a more muffled, scraping sound when he blurred the hard edges of the charcoal line with his fingers. Those fingers were supposed to run along his body right now, Orlando thought with a little desperation. He imagined the sketch of himself and how Viggo’s finger would follow the curve of his arm to smudge the charcoal. He could almost feel that touch.

He could most certainly feel it in his cock. They had started out so nicely - touching, stripping - and his body was very much in sex-mode right now. Instead, he was half-lying on this couch – left all high and dry – while the object of his naughty thoughts seemed to be concentrating on nothing but his art.

Despite being naked, Orlando started to feel warm all over. He looked down at his crotch, just moving his eyes and not his head, and what he saw confirmed the signs his body was sending anyway. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but it looked like his cock was very much trying to get there without any outside help.

 _Get on with it,_ Orlando thought and tried to wriggle his butt in an unobtrusive fashion to distract his aching cock. It didn’t work, though. Orlando was way past the point where simple distraction might help. He wanted to be touched. At this point, he’d sell his soul if only Viggo would hurry up and curl his hand around Orlando arousal. It would feel heavenly, Orlando was certain of that, because Viggo knew quite well how to give a handjob. Orlando had been able to replay their memorable encounter in _Fangastic_ for weeks afterwards – it had been that good. And it would be that good again, if Viggo would just decide to play along.

Orlando made a little noise in the back of his throat, something that was both a testament to his aroused state and a nonverbal demand for Viggo to hurry up already. Viggo did look up at hearing it. He searched Orlando’s eyes for a moment, smirked – that bastard! – and went back to his work.

That was the last straw. Orlando really couldn’t take another moment of this torture. Another look at his cock showed that now it was truly standing up to attention. He needed to be touched. No, he needed Viggo to touch him. Just thinking about it made his breath quicken. He could not, under no circumstances, lie still for another second. He was simply too hot for that, too aroused and desperate. Desperate to come, actually.

He shot the drawing Viggo a look and saw that no help would be forthcoming from that end. And then, with no actual thought involved on his part, Orlando’s hand went down to envelop his cock and stroke the aching flesh. Brilliant, bloody brilliant! All nerve-endings in his body went into overdrive. Orlando’s eyes closed and his head fell back because staying in position was pretty low on his list, Viggo be damned. If he didn’t want to play along, Orlando would get this show on the road on his own.

He had not even finished that though, when the hand on his cock was was encircled by another, a cool and large one. For a while, it went along with Orlando’s strokes before it took over. Orlando let Viggo take the lead, lent back and enjoyed the ride. Fully clothed, Viggo wriggled for space on the couch, his hand never stopping its heavenly ministrations, and when they had finally arranged themselves into a comfortable position, Viggo upped the tempo.

“Took you long enough,” Orlando forced out between gasps, but there was no real heat in the reprimand. It simply would not be nice to argue with someone who gave you such pleasure. There probably was an unwritten rule about that somewhere.

Viggo’s exhales were hot on Orlando’s neck and he could almost feel the small chuckle as little pinpricks on his too sensitive skin. “You forget that I can read your thoughts. I wanted to see how long you could hold out.”

 _Bastard,_ Orlando thought again and Viggo’s answer was a good-natured snort. After that, nothing more was spoken, but the air was heavy with Orlando’s moans. He drew up a leg to better push up into Viggo’s hand. Viggo answered the changed position with a well-tempered squeeze and that was all it took for Orlando to see stars. The world came crashing down on him while he spilled all over Viggo’s hand. And when the waves of his orgasm finally abated, he felt sated and content. And so very alive.

Viggo allowed to Orlando to catch his breath, before the vampire lifted his right hand to lick his fingers clean in an awfully sexy fahsion. Orlando watched mesmerized how Viggo’s tongue darted out, playful and teasing. He was just contemplating moving so that he could steal a kiss, but Viggo beat him to it and captured Orlando’s mouth in a gentle kiss, letting him taste himself. The kiss was slow and languid, slowly fading out like an afterthought. Orlando laid back and just breathed for a moment, enjoying Viggo’s nearness and the heavy tang of sex in the air.

“Better?” Viggo asked and Orlando raised an eyebrow in question. “Took the edge off, I hope?” Viggo clarified and Orlando nodded happily.

“Yeah, I feel a lot better. Less than I might explode any moment, you know?”

“Good. Then we can start properly now,” Viggo stated and attacked Orlando anew, not giving him the slightest chance. The younger man squealed – part in surprise and part in delight.

“You didn’t think we were done yet, did you? I just wanted to make sure you’d last a bit longer than ten seconds.”

“I did last longer than ten seconds,” Orlando felt obligated to defend his honour.

“Barely,” Viggo smirked and Orlando gave him a playful shove.

“Less talking, more touching,” Orlando ordered and his fingers groped for Viggo’s trousers in an attempt to get them off the vampire. At the same time, Viggo was divesting himself of his shirt. Had Viggo been human, their simoultaneous attempt to get him naked would probably have resulted in some bruises and strained muscles. As it was, the vampire managed to undress without Orlando accidentally strangling him with his tie. When they were both naked, they were lying on the couch chest to chest. Skin was touching skin in a tantalizing fashion and Orlando could feel his cock stir in interest.

Viggo noticed as well. “The blessings of youth. No recovery time at all,” he praised.

Unlike before, there was no rush now. His body had gotten what it had wanted, so now it was time for Orlando’s mind to find some joy as well. Yes, the sex was great, because they clicked well together. They simply fit – Orlando couldn’t explain it any better. However, what he liked even more were the moments when they not only connected bodily, but in mind as well. When they took things slow, just to bathe in that enormous feeling of belonging. That was what he liked best.

Viggo had endless patience in bed, something Orlando had realized in the beginning of their relationship. He would take his sweet time to arouse Orlando almost to the point of no return, only to then slow his efforts. Viggo never lost his taste for that game and Orlando secretly suspected that Viggo loved to see him beg for release. The thing was, Orlando loved that game just as much, because he found it glorious to be caught in that endless spiral of kisses and touches and whispered endearments.

When Viggo entered him, slow and deep, Orlando settled deeper into the couch with a sigh. That moment of joining compared to nothing else. He was opening up to the vampire in the most basic manner – physically and mentally – and when Viggo started to move, pushing into him in languid strokes that hit home every time, Orlando couldn’t shake the image that Viggo was not only entering his body, but his mind as well. He could feel him everywhere, probing in his mind, seeing through his eyes and tasting with his lips. They were one, and when you took a vampire to bed that wasn’t just a flowery phrase.

Orlando was close, he could feel his orgasm lurk just behind the next stroke of Viggo’s hand on his cock. He turned his head to the side, baring his neck to Viggo in the process. The invitation was nonverbial and so was Viggo’s refusal. He lowered his head to gently kiss Orlando’s pulse point, but he made no move to actually pierce the skin.

Orlando had expected that. Viggo had taken his blood only two nights before and he was always loath to take too much. Orlando offered anyway, he always did. He had come to love that feeling of Viggo drinking from him: the sharp pain when Viggo bit down, the sensation of feeling Viggo’s lips on his throat, the warm trickle of blood that tickled his skin.

Not tonight, but there would be other nights when lovemaking and blooddrinking would go together again. Instead, Viggo caught Orlando’s lips in a kiss and it wasn’t long before they both found their release.

Afterwards, they were lying on the couch in a knot of arms and legs. Both were sweaty and spent, but didn’t care in the least. Orlando’s cheek seemed to stick to Viggo’s damp chest. Viggo leisurely threaded his fingers through Orlando’s hair while Orlando played idly with the nipple that was right in front of his face.

Neither of them felt much like talking, there had been enough of that tonight. Orlando was just about to doze off in Viggo’s arms, when the door to the studio was opened with flourish. The movement was followed by a breath of silence and then a screeched “Ewwww!!” Viggo was up so fast that only vampire strength could have come into play. He fetched a random item of clothing to hold against his crotch and threw a shirt at Orlando to do the same.

Orlando tentatively looked in the direction of the door, only to see Liv standing there, one hand demonstratively covering her eyes. “I’ve been trying to find you two. Sarah and Mike are about to leave. Mike says that if you want a lift, you should hurry up,” she said.

“I should get dressed then,” Orlando said, not quite liking that his cuddling session with Viggo was being cut short.

“You better,” Liv advised before she closed the door, leaving them to get decent.

Viggo seemed mortified that Liv had seen them naked. Orlando, on the other hand, was quite amused by it. “Don’t worry, she’s a big girl. It’s not like she didn’t know we’re having sex.”

“But not right under her nose! She’s my daughter! She’s not supposed to...” Viggo was clearly searching for words. Orlando was very entertained by watching a flustered Viggo pick his clothes off the floor. But then he imagined finding his mother in a rather obvious position with another man and shuddered. Maybe Viggo had a point. On the other hand...

“She could have knocked, you know.”

Viggo frowned, not quite finding a rebuttal for that assessment.

When they joined the others in the gallery – properly dressed now, even if Orlando’s hair was a bit disshevelled – Sarah and Mike gave him both the raised eyebrow while Liv smirked devilishly whenever he looked her way. She seemed most decidedly not grossed out. Carefully, he made his way over to her to say his goodbyes and was just about to apologize for the state she had found them in when she beat him to it.

“Sorry I barged in like that, but I admit I was curious. And the view was definitely worth it!” With that she gave him a peck on the cheek and then winked at him. Orlando could only stare at her dumbfounded.

That woman was a force to be reckoned with!

_\- The End_

_(August 2011)_


End file.
